The republic day weekend was celebrated throughout the
country with talks of new hopes, new futures and new horizons to reach. My
family had a celebration of different sorts. We celebrated the day with a sense
of affirmation, a sense of happiness and a sense of belonging.
Saturday began on the usual note. Ashish had a piano class
to go for which we travel all the way to Amboli, a quaint little place after
the hustling suburb of Andheri. Every Saturday morning Gopal and I spend a good
one hour at the CCD adjacent to his class. As we chill over a cup of coffee, we
have our weekly discussions on varied topics which somehow find their way to how
we manage our children! This Saturday, Gopal decided to skip the trip and me
and Ashish went ahead. As I had to spend the time on my own, I decided to take ‘Bankerupt’
for company.
Once the class was over, we hailed an auto and proceeded to
Kalina. The auto driver was a chatterbox. Through the drive he was complaining to
me how the police in Mumbai were useless and was checking only autos and motor cycles while
terrorists would scot free. Finally we
reached home, paid him and went our ways. A good three hours later, Ashish
barged into my room: Amma! Where is the
piano bag? It’s not here! I think I left it in the auto. We frantically
looked around the house to realise that he was right. We had walked out of the
auto leaving the bag behind the seat! Ashish was heartbroken. His new set of
books, which we had not yet opened, was in it. He had got the set from his
teacher just that day. I was worried. The books were expensive and buying a
whole set all over again meant a major dent into my pocket. The whole afternoon
was dull and dreary. Evening I called up his piano teacher to inform her about
the loss and order a fresh set. She suggested that I wait for a day or two and
then call her up. What if the bag came back, she asked. I wasn’t too hopeful of
that. What, in this city of millions, were the chances of that bag coming back? Good
stories happened to people in newspapers , not at home !
Resigned to the fact that we had lost the bag, we settled
into the night. The next morning was India’s republic day. Ashish had to go to
school and was getting ready to celebrate R-day at school .But I knew he was in
no mood to celebrate! Celebration messages were being played on the radio . The
neighbourhood hall was belting out some patriotic songs. Newspapers were
screaming about special sales (which now I didn’t want to go!) when suddenly
the intercom buzzed. I picked up the phone to hear our watchman say, ‘Madam, there is an auto guy here. He says
he has a bag that possibly belongs to you. Please come down and identify him!’
I screamed in joy, woke up Gopal and rushed down. As I reached the gate, I saw
the driver and Oh boy! was he glad to see me too! ‘Aunteeeeeeeeeeeeeee! He screamed. Dekha, kaise maine aap ko dhoond
liya.’ Thank God! I told him. How did you figure it out, I asked him. His
wife located the bag, he told me, while cleaning the auto. One of the books had
the stamp of Ashish’s previous Casio class and his daughter called up the place.
They informed him that Ashish Gopal stays in Vakola. And he realised that he
had done only one trip to this place. So he came to ask. He said he was not
carrying the bag and someone would have to go with him to his place to collect
it. As this conversation was happening, Ashish ambled down from school still
looking dejected, till he saw this guy in front of him. His face burst into a beam.
Gopal and Ashish went along with him to collect the bag. He introduced them to
his wife, daughter and mother. He also told them that his old mother was
insistent that he go first thing in the morning to return the bag. She was adamant that it was a precious thing for a student and he should not delay
it.
Heartfelt thanks to the family who found it important enough to return the bag, to understand how everything had its own value and a family that reinstated our faith in our people. The republic day really turned out well. While it does matter that we have good governance, what really matters is that we have people like Mohammed Bhai who reinforce values of life.
I called up his piano teacher to inform her and thank her
for making me stay just a little patient, for helping me think that yes, good
stories could happen to us also.
